


"Sexual Behavior in the Human Female" and Other Revelations

by Vintage_Romantic



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, a character study, a head canon that ran away with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vintage_Romantic/pseuds/Vintage_Romantic
Summary: Delia has always loved weddings, the beauty and romance of them.Despite knowing she'll never have her dream wedding, she never stops hoping and collecting.





	1. Miss Morgan

**Author's Note:**

> This grew out of a head canon of mine that Delia has a secret scrapbook of sorts filled with wedding things, which Patsy may or may not eventually discover.

Growing up Delia always had a fascination with, or rather a deep and unabiding love for weddings. It all started when her cousin Gwendoline got married and she was chosen to be the flower girl. At the tender age of 5, the duties of flower girl certainly appealed to a young Delia. Picking wildflowers from the fields surrounding her house, counting petals, and then getting to make a great big mess – in church no less – was a dream come true for the five-year-old rascal. 

Twenty years later weddings still hadn’t lost their appeal for the Welshwoman, except now it wasn’t just the fun and beauty of them that enthralled her. It was the ceremony itself. The symbolism of two people entering a sacred place as individuals, exchanging vows and rings, and leaving as partners; two souls joined for life. 

Over the years as her infatuation matured, she began to collect clippings from newspapers, catalogues, and magazines. She gathered everything from phrases she liked from wedding announcements to striking churches and wedding gowns. She used to make and organise her clippings out in the open, preferably in her house’s sun-filled front room. But as Delia began to understand that she wasn’t quite like other girls in the village, she began to hide her clippings in the numerous medical books she had amassed; books she knew her mother would never search through. She didn’t want to give her mother false hope that she would actually have a wedding one day.  
~  
She was around 16 when she realise that she was different. Climbing trees, catching insects and classifying them, or sneaking out with the local boys to tip over Mr. Lewis’s cows were not common place activities for other girls in town. They were far more concerned with catching Gregory Williams' eye or perfecting their hair for the annual dance. Gregory was alright, Delia thought. But after seeing him fall face first into a cow pat, he quickly lost what little appeal he had. As for other boys, Delia didn’t pay them much attention at all. 

At 16 she was far more interested in studying anatomy and staying after school with her teacher, Miss Morgan. Miss Morgan had been an army nurse and had the most astonishing stories from the front lines. Delia swore she could listen to her for hours as she recounted her battlefield surgery assists. It helped that Miss Morgan also had soft golden blonde hair and hazel eyes that sparkled whenever she talked. 

Delia learned quickly to not talk too much about Miss Morgan with her mother. When she had gushed after a particularly exciting afternoon of hearing about Miss Morgan’s first month as a nurse her mother looked horrified and Delia found her afternoons for the next month occupied with sewing classes at the church, chaperoned by her mother. 

As a result, she hid her growing obsession with Miss Morgan from her mother. She even lied about joining an afternoon home economics club to cover for her time spent with the teacher. There was something so alluring about the ex-army nurse. Delia couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was but she was fascinated with her, with her stories, with how the sun would sometimes hit her lipstick just so, with how gently she would place her hand over Delia’s to correct a mistake. 

Life in a small village meant that the church held significant influence. And through the teaching of the Church, Delia knew that having any sort of feelings other than friendship for a woman was a sin. She told herself it was merely hero worship. She didn’t have the urge to kiss Miss Morgan, especially not when she would lean in close to inspect Delia’s handwriting. No, she simply wanted to be Miss Morgan. A nurse. A brave, beautiful, beguiling, nurse. This self-imposed ruse only lasted for so long. 

As she devoured every bit of information she could about nursing, she stumbled upon a fascinating book on her yearly trip to visit Aunt Blod in London. Sexual Behavior in the Human Female, by Dr. Kinsey was tucked away in the corner of Blod’s neighbourhood bookshop and while Delia knew it was wrong to steal things, she had to have this book. It might have the answers she so desperately wanted to her predicament. It only took her two days to read the volume cover to cover and it finally clicked for her. She had a word for what she was feeling, for what she was. Homosexual. 

The way Dr. Kinsey described it didn’t seem all that bad. There was no judgment, at least not like the hellfire and damnation she heard while in church. And if six percent of the women he interviewed also had these desires she also had confirmation she wasn’t alone. It had been the one thing she feared the most as she slowly realised the extent of her desire for Miss Morgan. The thought that she was the only one who had such feelings was heartbreaking. So even with its clinical tone and medical jargon, Dr. Kinsey’s book had given Delia hope. Hope that, despite the fact she would never have the dream wedding she had been planning since she was five, she might find someone like her one day. 

After that trip to London, Delia had set her heart on pursuing a career in nursing. She knew it wasn’t the most glamorous profession. But she was confident it would bring her joy and more importantly, it would be a means of escaping Wales for London. She didn’t want to get her hopes up but she also felt that living in a big city like London would be the best chance of meeting someone else like her. Someone who might share this inclination, this desire. 

She began to prepare for nursing school entry exams. Again, she did this beyond the prying eyes of her mother, who would certainly have had a fit if she found her daughter studying the intricacies of human anatomy, female and male. For two years, Delia stayed up all hours of the night studying her stealthily purchased medical texts. She would take brief tea breaks to skim through the bridal magazines her mother left out in the hopes of reigniting Delia’s outspoken love of weddings. 

What her mother didn’t know was just as her medical library was growing so was her wedding clipping collection. Once she knew what she was and had accepted that her future would most likely be spent alone, she tried to stop her wedding book, if only to stop herself from wishing for the impossible. She would never have the wedding she dreamt about, never have the flowing white lace gown, the daffodil and lily bouquet, or the romantic honeymoon in a secluded cabin in the Scottish highlands. But she couldn’t bring herself to throw away her childhood fantasy; to throw away the hope that some day society would come round to the idea that what she wanted was no different than what Gwen and her chap shared. 

So she continued her practice. Clipping bits and pieces from magazines and hiding them away in the pages of Dr. Kinsey’s volume on sexuality. She never thought any of it would be feasible one day and she went weeks, sometimes months pushing the thought out of her head. That was until the day she met a certain well-to-do nurse, with blue eyes that seemed to sparkle just so when she talked…


	2. Feelings Confirmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia has one last cup of tea with Miss Morgan before leaving for London.  
> Things do not go as she expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all!
> 
> Apologizes for major delay in updating this, I was busy with other work and moving across the country >.<  
> I hope you all enjoy it!

It wasn’t that she simply ran away from home to the big city. Her parents knew well enough where she was and what she was doing. But the huge fight Delia had had with her mother a few before her departure had left their relationship strained. Consequently, Delia felt utterly alone as she started nursing school. It didn’t help that she hadn’t heard much from Miss Morgan, apart from a brief letter a couple weeks after she arrived.

Miss Morgan, now Mrs. Williams, was the only one to give Delia any praise or celebration over the news she had been accepted to the London Hospital’s prestigious nursing school. The former teacher and now friend had treated Delia to a lovely tea at the one teashop in town and had bought her a new, neat travel coat for her long train trip. 

In the years since Delia was in Miss Morgan’s class the two had grown quite close and considered each other dear friends and confidants. In those years Delia’s infatuation with her former teacher hadn’t waned, even when Stephen, the town’s new tailor, entered the ex-army nurse’s life. Delia tried her best to conceal her broken heart when during one of their afternoon tea-and-talk sessions last year Miss Morgan announced her impending nuptials. 

Delia was the first to hear about Miss Morgan’s, or Rachel as she had insisted Delia call her ever since she had left school, engagement. She wasn’t all that surprised; Stephen had courted the former nurse extensively over the previous summer. However, Rachel had seemed indifferent to it all, as if she was merely being polite by accepting his invitation. 

Delia suspected that Rachel had been perfectly happy with her single life but at the modest age of 33 Rachel was already thought of as a spinster in their community. So perhaps she accepted the proposal out of social obligation, or to stop the rumours that swirled around her. In a small town gossip takes on a life of its own. Delia noticed that she and Rachel often had to deal with odd looks and the occasional whisper when they walked around town together. She knew what people were saying and did everything in her power to make sure no one could seriously question their friendship.

When she turned 18 Delia started going on casual dates, outings really, with some of the boys in town. Delia found it was easier to suffer through a couple of afternoons of young men explaining everything to her and trying to kiss her (they’d only ever succeed at securing her cheek) than risk too many questioning looks from her mother and her friends.  
These dates, combined with Rachel’s marriage a year ago had fixed the issue. Mrs. Busby even approved of their friendship now, often stating, “What a good influence that lovely Mrs. Williams has on you Delia, she must be so happy she’s found someone to marry. And what a wonderful man! Let’s hope she helps you find one of your own.” Mrs. Busby wasn’t typically one to beat around the bush. 

But to Delia, Rachel didn’t seem any happier with her situation now than when she was single. If anything, Rachel was more melancholy and withdrawn, especially after her new husband insisted she quit her job, so she could focus on being a wife and hopefully soon a mother he told her. 

Delia wasn’t naïve. She knew her feelings were almost certainly unrequited. But she still held out a tiny inkling of hope that Rachel was like her. Maybe it was the way her hand would linger on Delia’s when they shared a cup of tea or perhaps it was just how she rarely spoke of her suitor, and now husband. Whatever it was, Delia was certain that Rachel was yearning for a new way of life, just as Delia was. 

It came as a surprise then that mid-way through their celebratory tea Rachel suddenly, but tenderly placed her hands over Delia’s. 

“Delia.” Hazel met blue before sneaking a glance around the nearly empty teahouse. “Delia, my darling girl. I know I don’t need to state the obvious but I could not be more proud of you.”

The constant blush Delia wore in the presence of this alluring woman only deepened at the compliment. 

“Watching you grow into a beautiful young woman has been a joy,” Rachel continued, stroking her thumbs across the back of Delia’s hands. “My god you are beautiful…” Rachel observed as if seeing the young woman in front of her for the first time. 

A sudden spark flowed between their hands at that whispered revelation. Thumbs stilled as both women realized the weight of the unspoken conversation occurring, eyes asking the same desperate question. 

“I wish I could,” Rachel’s eyes slipped from Delia’s down to her carefully painted lips before quickly glancing back up, to clarify her desires. 

Delia could feel her heart hammering inside her chest as she turned her hands over to grab take hold of Rachel’s, silently confirming that the feelings were absolutely mutual.

~

To this day, Delia couldn’t remember leaving the teahouse or how they ended up at Rachel’s thankfully empty cottage. 

What she could remember, in vivid detail, was the feeling of the older woman pressed against her, a hand wrapped tightly against the back of her neck while the other desperately gripped her waist. She remembered forgetting to breathe at the feeling of Rachel’s soft, imploring tongue running along the seam of her lips. She remembered the sense of scared urgency behind it all, as if this blessed reality would slip away in a moments notice. She remembered their wet tears mingling with their rapid breaths when they rested their foreheads together. 

What felt like hours were, in reality, only minutes but Delia knew she would never be the same. If Dr. Kinsey’s book had given her the technical language to describe her feelings, kissing Rachel had provided her with tangible evidence that such desires were truly possible. 

All at once Delia was elated and defeated. She and Rachel could never be. The wonderful, momentary lapse in reality was only that, a lapse in a reality that their true feelings were deemed sinful and disgusting by the world at large. The weight of that understanding was felt in their shared tears. 

Finally calm, Rachel stepped away from the young woman, straightening her clothes and hair. Delia feared she’d shut off completely; act as if this little indiscretion never happened. So she was all together surprised when Rachel spoke up, looking her directly, “I think, perhaps we should talk. How long have you known Delia?” 

Delia’s breath caught slightly as she blushed involuntarily, “Known what?” 

“Known you were....” 

Delia was grateful she was still against the door. She wasn’t expecting this and having some support for her ever weakening knees was appreciated. 

“Oh. For about three years now, since I was 16. But I think I’ve always felt different.” Delia paused, scanning the older woman’s face for signs of disgust or dismay. Not finding any, she chanced her own question. “And… how about you? How long have you known?”

Again Rachel did the unexpected and motioned for Delia to join her in the living room. 

“I was 19, just admitted into the army as a nurse. The war was certainly terrible but it did give some of us girls a real chance of living. Her name was Rose, she was a nurse like me. We had almost two years together on our post in North Africa.” Rachel paused, looking up and off into the distance, lost in her own memories. “It was a stray bullet that got her, some stupid new recruit who couldn’t aim. To think we had almost made it through the war as well. We had all these grand plans. A flat, a home really. But that was that. I came home without her and threw myself into my job.” 

Delia could feel the tears falling down her cheeks at her dear friend’s story. 

“I never had any hope to find another person like me. I wasn’t sure any more existed after the war,” Rachel laughed gently. “Then you came along. Even as your teacher I felt a kinship with you Delia but it wasn’t until last autumn when I told you about Stephen and I that I realized.” 

“Why Stephen?” Delia wasn’t stupid by any means but she couldn’t understand why Rachel would choose to marry when she obviously had no interest.

“He’s a good man. He treats me right. I could have done a lot worse. I knew what they were saying about me in town and I knew the rumours wouldn’t stop until I settled down with a man.” 

Delia ruminated on that for a while. Both women sat together, hands clasped, contemplating the unfair reality they lived in. 

Rachel was the first one to speak again. “I lost my chance Delia. But you haven’t lost yours. Go to London, learn about your new profession, learn about yourself, enjoy being single, but don’t close yourself off. You’ll find a love, one even greater than you think this is now.” Rachel gestured between the two of them before reaching up and stroking Delia cheek. “We will always have today, but you must promise me you’ll move on.” 

Delia’s tears continued to fall as she gently pulled Rachel in for one last kiss, a brush really as their lips only barely touched. Pulling back, Delia met her first love’s eyes. “I promise. Thank you for everything Rachel. You have truly been the best friend I could ever have wished for.”

“Of course my dear. Now pull yourself together. Can’t have that mum of yours thinking I’ve gone and upset you on our last tea together.” 

Delia gathered herself, broken heart and all. “Well I guess I’d best be on my way.” The pair shared one last, tight hug before Rachel guided the reluctant girl out the cottage, leaning on the door watching her walk away. 

She only looked back once. Delia wanted to keep her promise to Rachel, that she would move on, but she needed one last good look at the woman who so captured her young heart. They would see each other a few more times over the month before Delia’s move to London but to Delia that afternoon felt like the last time she truly saw her friend. 

~

Since starting nursing school Delia had only received one letter from Rachel. It was short and showed little evidence of their romantic interlude. In fact, to Delia it felt more like a “Dear John” letter; as if Rachel was reminding Delia of their conversation, telling her once more to move on, to let go of what could never be and find something that could be.  
~ Delia,  
I’m expecting. I’m due in the springtime when the daffodils will be in full bloom. Home is pleasant as ever. I hope that your transition is going more smoothly than mine is.  
I also hope you are finding new friends, ones who will cherish their time with you as I have.  
Sincerely Yours,  
Rachel ~ 

Delia read the letter until the corners were bent and the words tear marked. Then, taking several deep breaths she held it to her heart before tucking it away with her collection of other impossible things. Dr. Kinsey’s volume held multiple secrets now; it held all the parts of Delia she hid from the public, her desires, her romantic side, and now her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that Rachel/Miss Morgan would be around 34 when this was happening, Delia would have been either 19 or 20. So yes there is a significant age difference but I want to make it clear that nothing happened before Delia turned 18. I like May/December Romances just not creepy ones.
> 
> ^.^
> 
> Comments? Questions? Concerns?  
> Leave them here!  
> Or over @awkwardly-romantic . tumblr !

**Author's Note:**

> To be continued...
> 
> Please let me know what you think!  
> Also always accepting prompts @awkwardly-romantic . tumblr 
> 
> ^.^


End file.
